


Crimson Kisses

by yooodles



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Blood, M/M, Mild Gore, Serial Killer Doyoung, Serial Killers, Unhappy Ending, and kinda Jaehyun too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:01:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25302028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yooodles/pseuds/yooodles
Summary: Jaehyun always thought Doyoung’s kisses were the sweetest with blood staining his lips.
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung
Comments: 18
Kudos: 98





	Crimson Kisses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tachizaki_Leo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tachizaki_Leo/gifts).



> This is for you James, who keeps insisting I write something properly angsty and kill off one of main characters, hope you like it ❤️
> 
> PLEASE HEED ARCHIVE WARNINGS BEFORE READING

Jaehyun’s footsteps are silent against the smooth marble—and yet, each step manages to feel deafening in his ears, heavy with the weight of what comes next. 

“Hey baby,” Doyoung greets him with that smile of his, all teeth and gums and brilliance.

Jaehyun can’t bring himself to reply. Instead, he shuffles slightly to double-check that his dagger remains securely concealed in his sleeve, although there’s really no point hiding it now considering the look of comprehension that dawns on Doyoung’s features the moment his eyes pass over Jaehyun.

He knows, he _always_ knows.

The smile melts off his face and Jaehyun mourns the loss. His expression transforms into something more neutral, tinged the slightest bit of disappointment, but no sign of fear or grief or even anger like Jaehyun had expected. He looks almost _resigned_ , as if he saw this coming. 

“Oh,” Doyoung says plainly, “I had a feeling it would eventually come to this.”

Jaehyun gulps and wills himself to speak, “If you already knew then why’d you allow me to stick around as long as I did? Why aren’t you running?”

Doyoung sighs, taking a step closer, “I guess I was selfish—I hoped I could change your mind—and for a while I thought I did.”

Jaehyun’s mind flits back to a month ago—back then, he thought his mind had been changed too. When nothing else mattered but each other as he drowned deeper and deeper into Doyoung’s pull. He remembers the blood on his hands and the screams for mercy and the motel rooms and Doyoung’s lips on his. 

“You’re just as bad as me,” Doyoung says carefully, “maybe worse—at least I don’t pretend to be someone I’m not.”

Jaehyun can recall the rush of adrenaline and high unlike any other, every time he watched the light leave someone’s eyes at his or Doyoung’s hand. He thinks back to the look of pride that adorned Doyoung’s features with each life he took, a look that never failed to make his heart beat a little faster. He buries these feelings deep inside—if he can even consider them feelings. After all, he tells himself, it was all an act—one to get closer to Doyoung for the sake of his mission and one he ended up getting a little carried away with it.

Everyone has their weaknesses and Jaehyun isn’t ignorant enough to deny that Doyoung is his greatest one. But that’s all he is—a weakness and nothing more.

“You’re a monster,” Jaehyun says in an attempt to remind himself of the task at hand.

His voice comes out weaker than he would have liked, maybe because deep down he has trouble believing in his own words. Or even if he does, he struggles to see anything wrong in them.

 _Unhinged_ . _Psychotic_ . _Remorseless_ . _Cruel_ . Those were all things he'd heard used to describe Doyoung. It would be easier if they weren’t true—however, Doyoung _is_ all of those things and never bothered to deny it. He is all those things but with Jaehyun he was only ever sweet.

Doyoung laughs, light and tinkling, and Jaehyun hates how the sound pierces his insides like shards of glass.

“You know, my offer still stands,” Doyoung says, tone soft, but serious, “I can take you away and we can start over together without a single look back.”

Jaehyun shuts his eyes for a moment and wills himself not to get caught up in his words. He’s already said yes to Doyoung once—it feels like both a lifetime ago and just yesterday—wrapped up in silk sheets and each other. _Run away with me_ , Doyoung had said, _I’ll take you anywhere you want to go._

A week later he was called back to the headquarters and threatened to be reassigned if he didn’t start acting soon. He knew how it looked from their side—it had been months with little updates, standing by as Doyoung’s body count climbed higher and higher. If only they knew he’d been helping that number increase rather than stopping it like he was supposed to. He was warned—if he wasn’t going to do his job, they would send someone else to do it for him, and Jaehyun knows well-enough that for a high level-killer like Doyoung, there would be no mercy in their methods.

“That’s not real,” Jaehyun spits back, “None of it was ever real.”

Right from the start it was just a job and it still is _just a job._ And yet, Doyoung knew all this and still invited Jaehyun into his home and his mind and his heart without an ounce of hesitation. But that doesn't matter now, that never _mattered_.

“Am I not real? Are you not real?” Doyoung asks calmly, but he can hear a slight edge starting to form on the corner of his words, “Was it a lie when we kissed and made love and promised ourselves to each other? Was each life we stole together fake as well?”

Jaehyun thinks back to the first time he took a life—that is, solely for pleasure and not work. Doyoung hadn’t told him where they were going, only grabbed his hand and pulled him along, stringing through the streets and alleys until they reached a dingy little nightclub. Initially, he thought Doyoung had brought him here to dance—but as he told him to keep his head down as he led them past the dancefloor and towards the rooms in the back, Jaehyun started to realize he had other plans in mind.

The first victim wasn’t particularly memorable himself—one of those sleazebags who slaved away at the office by day and prowled grimy clubs at night. If Jaehyun remembers correctly, Doyoung had first seen him at a cafe and didn’t like the way he _looked_ at him. That was usually all it took—Doyoung wasn’t exactly picky with his prey—it was really just a sport to him.

Not even a moment after the door clicked shut behind them Doyoung had set to work—blade in hand quick to make two clean slices to his ankles to debilitate him before the man even realized what was happening. He screamed as he fell to the floor, but his cries were muffled by the thumping bass of the music.

“ _Here,_ ” Doyoung had said, handing Jaehyun the knife, “ _finish him off._ ”

To this day, Jaehyun isn’t sure what drove him to do it—maybe it at been the look of anguish on the man’s face, or more likely the one of excitement and expectation in Doyoung’s—but next thing he knew, Jaehyun was pressing the blade against his throat.

“ _Good job, baby,_ ” Doyoung had praised, plucking the knife out of Jaehyun’s hands to do his _last touches_ as he liked to call.

This involved gouging the eyes of the victim out—there was no real purpose to this habit, Doyoung simply _liked_ doing it and it had become a sort of _signature_ of his. Jaehyun will never forget his look of utter pleasure as he carved up the man, not even flinching when a splash of blood hit his face.

It was also the first time Doyoung had kissed him, covered in blood and high from the kill. He remembers how easily he’d given in that day, to his words and his lips—instantly hungry for more at the first taste. It was then Jaehyun learned that kisses tasted the sweetest with blood staining his lips.

A warm hand on his cheek jolts Jaehyun back to reality, his eyes flying up to meet Doyoung’s, looking straight at him—deep and lovingly. Every inch of his insides ache at the scrutiny.

“If you do this,” Doyoung says quietly, “I can’t guarantee you’ll ever be able to find forgiveness.”

Jaehyun swallows thickly, “I don’t need your forgiveness if you’re dead.”

Doyoung smiles softly, thumb tracing little circles over Jaehyun’s cheekbone, “I don’t mean me, I’m talking about yourself. Will you ever be able to forgive yourself? That’s the hardest part for me, I don’t want you to have to live like that after I’m gone.”

Jaehyun’s head spins and his stomach starts to churn in nausea. He’s slipped the dagger into his hand now, his hand sweating around the grip. He knows Doyoung can see it now, yet he makes no move to leave. If anything, he gets closer. 

“It’s not too late,” Jaehyun whispers before he can help himself, “If you run now and go far away where I can’t find you, I can just pretend that you escaped before I could get to you.”

Doyoung shakes his head, “They’d never believe you—and besides, I don’t want to run away if you’re not there with me.”

Jaehyun leans in slightly to Doyoung’s touch, a habit he doesn’t have the energy to break right now.

“But you know this means…” his voice trails off.

Doyoung hums, “I was never meant to survive this long anyway. They’re bound to catch me sooner or later. If I have to die, there’s no one I’d rather have the honour than you, baby.”

He doesn’t know who leans in first, probably both of them at the same time, but the last of the gap between them ceases to exist as Doyoung covers Jaehyun’s lips with his. Jaehyun can’t help but sigh into the kiss, greedy for more. He lets himself be selfish for a moment, allows himself this one indulgence knowing very well it would be the last time he’d ever get to taste Doyoung’s sweet lips.

“ _Oh_ ,” Doyoung gasps against his lips the same time Jaehyun’s dagger plunges straight past his ribs and into his heart.

“ _Oh Jaehyun,_ ” he says shakily, pulling back their faces apart just enough to look at Jaehyun with a mixture of fondness and sadness, “my sweet, beautiful, Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun’s hand shakes around the knife as he musters the last of his strength to pull it out from Doyoung’s chest, flinching when some of his warm blood gets on his hand in the process. Doyoung stumbles, fingers instinctively reaching to touch the wound in his chest as he falls backwards.

Jaehyun shakes his head in horror, dagger slipping from his fingers to drop into the floor with a loud clatter. He’s easily killed dozens of people without an ounce of remorse or regret, even enjoyed half the time—so how come now that it’s Doyoung’s on the ground, pale face and shirt stained with thick blood that pools all around him—the only thought running through his mind is how he wishes he could take it all back.

“ _Doyoung_ ,” the name falls from his lips in a pained whisper, but Doyoung only smiles up at him wordlessly.

 _No,_ he can’t bear to watch this, can’t bear to watch that brilliant light drain out his eyes knowing it all his own doing. _No, no, no_ , _he can’t do this._

He turns around in a panic, racing out of the building as fast as his feet can take him—maybe the further he gets, the easier it'll be to pretend it never happened. The sound of his phone chiming halts in him mid-step. He pulls it out, wiping at blurry eyes.

_Is it over?_

It’s a text from headquarters and Jaehyun fights the urge to throw up. His fingers tremble as he types his reply.

_It’s over._

It’s over.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> ahaha the end?
> 
> find me on:  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/yooodles)  
> [cc](https://curiouscat.me/yooodles)


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